


Death in Paradise Alternative Universe Series 3: Episode 6 – Smothered

by HeatherTN



Series: Death In Paradise Alternative Universe Series Three [6]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherTN/pseuds/HeatherTN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two bodies are found in Honoré Bay. But what has that got to do with Saint-Marie's nightlife? Plus Richard becomes tense again, and has a lesson about interpretive dance he'll never forget.</p><p>Warning - this story contains themes of a sexual nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, starting slowly with this one and hope to lighten the atmosphere a bit with it as it progresses. Might even include a picture in the last chapter!! So bear with me please. Comments and loads of Richard Poole shaped choccy welcome! Please check back often as I have a dreadful habit of re-editing on a frequent basis!

Bomber Dupuis staggered happily from the club. He had a good sup this evening, especially from the bottles set out the back of this particular place, which usually contained enough dregs to make the hunt worthwhile. Stretching himself up to his full height, he gave a loud belch and stumbled forward in an effort to aim himself in the general direction of his digs by the harbour. 

Rounding one corner, Bomber hit a trash can, sending both it and its contents clattering across the narrow back alley which made him jump. Cursing, Bomber tried to catch the rolling lid while also attempting to pick up the litter at the same time but came to a sudden stop at the sight of a pair of legs poking out from under a stack of full bin bags. 

“Aiye sorry man! Didn’t mean to….” Bomber started to say, while leaning forward thinking he had disturbed a fellow vagrant. But instead he froze as it was becoming very obvious the person the legs were attached to was very dead.

Bomber pulled back with a strangled cry and turned to run, but instead found his head being grabbed and his face being smothered, where he was held until he could no longer draw air into his lungs.

******************************** 

Camille half ran up the ramp to the main entrance to the station. She was uncommonly late after a night out with some of her old school friends. It was the anniversary of Aimee’s death but rather than stay in to have a bad evening, Camille and some of Aimee's other friends had congregated at Juliana’s before hitting one of the three night clubs on Saint-Marie. 

Most of the night life in Honoré consisted of street side bars and beach cafés. Some of the larger bars would have local music, with some organising beach parties for both local and tourist alike. But of late, Honoré’s tourist industry had been taking off as Saint-Marie was increasing in popularity with cruise ship tours and more visitors from both Europe and the US. Also with the hotels came more sophisticated night life, and it was in the largest and oldest hotel, The Royal, Camille had found herself dancing to a frenzy with five other women to the early hours.

Now the only thing that was dancing into a frenzy was her head! She just hoped that Richard would go easy on her this morning. The man would be at risk of developing his own headache with Hurricane Bordey if he didn’t. Pausing at the door to calm her breathing and composure, Camille straightened her blouse, then made her way inside. Fidel looked up from his desk and made a jokey show of looking at his watch. Dwayne in turn smiled, said nothing but handed her a cup of steaming hot locally grown fresh filtered coffee and a wink. Camille gladly took a sip then cautiously looked around, breathing a sigh of relief when it became apparent Richard was not in the building. 

“Phew! I thought I would be in for a lecture on time keeping. Sorry for being so late!” Camille said, while organising herself behind her desk, “have I missed anything?”

“No,” Fidel replied, “the Chief is at a meeting with the Commissioner about manpower, and we’re just trying to clear up of the paperwork on the Lily Thompson case.”

Camille noted the flicker of sadness on the faces of both her colleagues. Lily Thompson was the Police Sergeant of the station back when Richard Poole had first arrived on Saint-Marie to investigate his predecessor’s murder. Camille herself was surprised when she found out who Detective Inspector Charlie Hulme’s murderer was, and why. At the time, she had risked going back undercover to investigate a trafficking ring between Saint-Marie and Basse-Terre, with James Lavender one of the main suspects, only to find herself also arrested by Richard Poole! 

In a split second, her life had changed with being seconded to Saint-Marie as a Detective Sergeant to work with Poole who had also found himself seconded, and whom she would have cheerfully thrown in the island’s volcano at the time. But instead they began to make a good working team, and along with Dwayne and Fidel, now a police sergeant, had become well known in the Caribbean for their successes with solving murder cases and generally improving the crime rate on Saint-Marie. 

Of late, petty crime had been on the increase and two recent murders had opened a whole can of worms, with the team had been working much harder in trying to keep a handle on things. Lily Thompson was serving a life sentence for the murder of Charlie Hulme and James Lavender, a businessman who had a huge stake in human and conflict diamond trafficking. Lily was on the take and had much to lose, which was everything eventually including her life, murdered by arsenic poisoning by a prison warden whose boyfriend had been framed by Lily in a case, and who had also died in prison during an argument.

Lily's killer, Juliana Peters, had been arrested the day before, after Richard had managed to track how Lily had been poisoned, and as was his usual style, exposed Peters in front of the other suspects in grand Poirot style. Camille had made a note to get around to teasing him about that, including the fact even one of England’s greatest crime writers knew the impact a good European detective could have, for all that he was Belgian and fictitious. Smiling at the thought, she began to search through the emails and reports on her computer.

The morning continued on with each police officer going about their business. Dwayne had taken off on patrol on his trusty Enfield, Fidel chatted with Camille about Juliet and Rosie, about his plans on taking them for a little break across to St Kitts to stay with a cousin, and with a smile noting that there wouldn't be much of a change in scenery. Their conversation was broken by Fidel’s desk phone ringing. It was Dwayne.

Two bodies had been picked up by local fishermen in Honoré Bay.


	2. Chapter 2

“However you look at it Sir, there will have to be some sort of future investment in manpower and updating our equipment.” Detective Inspector Richard Poole said, trying to keep calm, but inwardly squirming under his Superior’s stern gaze. 

During his convalescence, Richard had time to ponder over the manpower of the tiny police force, the severe lack of resources, time lost over vital forensics having to be completed off island. Richard was on the verge of asking to be permanently assigned to Saint-Marie, but he knew all too well the reluctance of the Met to allow a permanent secondment elsewhere. But, he reasoned, the Met wasted no time in sending him to Saint-Maie in the first place and his visit back with a suspect some time back, finally confronted him with the truth in the fact no one had really missed him. 

With SOCA, now the National Crime Agency, Richard was useful with his witness and had impressed them on how the case was handled, otherwise no one else seemed to be that bothered apart from filching kudos from a case which had finally been solved using old fashioned methods. It wounded him how much, or how little he was thought of in London, and had made the decision there and then to get himself moved. It would take careful planning and if he could show the Commissioner and the Police Governing Board where improvements could be made with local policing at minimum cost, it might go some way in staying in a place he would never feel physically comfortable in, but emotionally… well, that was another matter.

Commissioner Selwyn Patterson gazed at Richard, nodding slowly and quietly digesting the facts and figures Poole had laid out in front of him. Patterson was fully aware of how understaffed his force was on Saint-Marie. Poole’s suggestions were to the point, and had taken in to account the very limited budget that was afforded in terms of man power and items available to the small police force.

One suggestion was to make better use of the volunteer force, with training and allotting greater authority with powers of arrest. The small station rooms could be expanded to hold a greater amount of equipment. Yet Patterson also had to be realistic at the amount of funding available. The Commonwealth grant was tiny, the local tax could be increased but there would be hell to pay from the local businesses if that happened. Private investors on the police board would prefer to invest in the growing tourist industry. A case had to be made for greater investment because if it were not for The Metropolitan Police seconding senior officers to the island, no expertise of that nature would be around plus Basse Terre could be a little awkward. 

Patterson wished that Saint-Marie could be a department of the UK, as Basse Terre was to France, that is, not a distant dependent but an actual part of the country itself. Of course that would not ever happen, but something had to give. Poole had done wonders for the tiny main force and the rate of successful cases and arrests were astounding. However it could also be a curse as now the results were expected by the board, but with no forthcoming cash was available to invest further, the usual political trick of demanding more, for less. It seemed the board wanted to have its cake as a boast to the other small island forces, and even to the big boys in Jamaica and Barbados without stumping up the extra cash to do so. Patterson had been told in no uncertain terms he would have to make do with what was available for now. 

Poole had also raised the point that regrettably, there would need to be some investment in fire arms. So far, any weaponry was anything the local volunteers had and were willing to use. But the small regular force itself was unarmed and Camille was the only officer who had been specifically trained and experienced with firearms, not a good idea with the threat of drug and trafficking cartels starting to make a move on to the island on the back of the tourist industry. Something had to give somewhere, still Poole was coming up with some good ideas. Whether they could be implemented however, was another matter entirely.

The momentary silence between the two was broken by the chirping of Poole’s mobile phone.

“Excuse me Sir, while I take this..” Richard said as he rose out of his chair.

“Carry on Inspector.” Patterson nodded.

A frown appeared across Richard’s forehead. Patterson guessed straight away his Detective Inspector was needed elsewhere. Richard gave stumbling apologies and headed to the door.

“…on my way Camille..”

********************************

The sun was beating down as usual and Richard felt himself sweat even more, if such a thing was possible, as he climbed out of the non air conditioned taxi. It was getting embarrassing that the most senior officer on the Island next to the Commissioner had no mode of transport of his own, that would have to change Richard mused. Without thinking about it he removed his jacket placing it over his arm, walking briskly down the pier towards where his team were gathered over two covered bodies on the dockside. Camille and Dwayne were carefully examining what they could of the bodies, both male while Fidel was photographing the area. Richard noted a look of sadness on Dwayne’s face, as he had momentarily stopped to look at one of the victims.

Camille approached.

“Two males, found out in the bay by Ronaldo and Jules who were pulling their crab pots. One is a local vagrant called Bomber Dupuis, the other we don’t know as there’s no ID on him.”

She stepped back as Richard moved closer to examine the two corpses. After pulling out a pair of examination gloves and putting them on, he crouched down by the body Dwayne had been standing by. The name was familiar. Of course, it was one of the people bribed by Daryl Dexter in the Sister Thérèse case. Dupuis had given information (after a libation or two at the expense of the Saint-Marie Police Force) that had added a vital clue to the murder of a young postulant nun at the now closed local convent.

The local medical examiner approached the two detectives.

“As you confirm Detective Bordey, there’s no obvious cause of death except maybe drowning. I’ll get you any results as soon as I can.”

Camille nodded and looked at Richard as he carefully completed his own examination. It wasn't that Poole didn't trust his colleagues, but he needed to see for himself, to get a feel of the situation and start the cogs grinding in his head. Ok, it was instinct but he dare not confess that to Camille, especially after constantly telling her not to use hers. At the end of the day, hard fact and the use of science would hopefully determine the cause of death of the men before him and solve the case. After a second walk around the area, Richard stood for a moment, looking out to sea and then back to the shoreline. 

Making a note to find out how the currents were running over the previous day, Richard rose up onto the balls of his feet momentarily and made one last scan of the area while removing the examining gloves from his hands. He nodded at the attending medical examiner and spoke.

“Right nothing else to see here. If it’s ok with you, Doctor, I think we can get these two moved and see what has happened. It might appear as if the two have drowned but to be so far out in the bay, fully clothed and how they got out there will need to be answered.”

The medical examiner nodded his assent then left,

Picking up his trusty briefcase (which was made in France, but he would also *never* let Camille find that out either!*) and his jacket, he motioned Camille towards the Defender leaving Dwayne and Fidel to tidy up and finish taking initial statements from the fishermen. 

As usual there were way more questions than answers, especially how a local drunk and an unknown person ended up fully clothed in Honorè Bay. In his head, Richard just knew foul play was at hand, but proving it and finding anyone responsible was a different matter.

 

*I know about this since *brags* I have the actual briefcase itself, made by a French company. I won that, Richard Poole's blue suit, pyjamas, shoes, shirt, tie, a dressing gown not seen in the series and some other props, in a Radio Times competition! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of unusual clues on the victims lead the team to think about Honoré's night life.

Fidel Best quietly scrolled through the information on the screen before him that was filtering through from Basse-Terre about the two drowned men found the day before. Neither had ID as such, but everyone knew Bomber, and news of his demise had quickly spread through the town. 

Bomber was an old drunk who had spent his life hustling tourists by touting for local businesses but once was a tradesman himself before Saint-Marie's infamous 110% raw cane rum took complete possession of him. Still, he was a character that never did any real harm and who would be missed. Already there was a collection growing (quietly started by Dwayne and Crazy Ali – another of Bomber’s friends) to give the old timer a half decent funeral and burial. 

The other victim was an enigma. There was no ID on the man but it was apparent whoever it was, was the complete opposite to Bomber with immaculate clothing and no initial toxicology findings of any drugs, alcohol nor anything else unusual in his blood stream. If anything, the victim had been very healthy with no signs of obvious ill health. Hopefully fingerprints and DNA taken would help reveal the victim's identity soon.

But on closer reading, Fidel saw an additional flag up in the notes which was very odd indeed. Both men were found to have traces of theatrical makeup in their nostrils, teeth and under their finger nails. 

*********************

Richard heaved himself out the small taxi and growled under his breath as the customary ten dollars was snatched out of his hand. Stepping back from the black car as it chugged its way back onto the main town road, Richard resisted the rare urge to throw an obscene gesture at the thing. Public transport barely existed on Saint-Marie save for a couple of battered old buses and of course, the dreaded taxi service from the stone age. Rolling his eyes briefly heavenward, Richard adjusted his tie and stepped forward into the crowd gathering for the daily market in the square towards the station. Fidel had called him just before he left the shack to say some interesting findings were coming up on the two apparent drowning victims so at least the day was getting off to a better start.

“Good morning Richard.”

Camille’s voice caused him to turn and not for the first time, Richard found his breath being swept away at the sight of her hair, eyes, strappy top, long legs….

Taking a breath, Richard harrumphed and nodded.

“Good morning Camille.”

She smiled that radiant smile of hers, gently inclining her head. It was going to be another bloody difficult day he mused. Once inside the station, Richard found himself allowing Camille to take his jacket while he settled at his desk.

“So Fidel, bring us up to date if you will. What’s this about theatrical makeup?”

“Well Sir, there is some doubt about the cause of death due to drowning. Although the lungs were filled with sea water, the coroner now thinks this could be down to the amount of time the two have been immersed in water. There were traces of some sort of makeup on the faces and under the fingernails of both men. Also there are signs of bruising on the backs of their heads, necks, and across the upper shoulders, as if they have been gripped tightly and may be conducive to signs of a struggle. Excuse me…” Fidel stopped as an email signal toned and he looked closely at his screen.

“An update from the coroner Sir. Would you please call him as he now thinks it is definite both men died from unnatural causes.”

Richard sat back in his chair at this.

“Oh?”

“Yes Sir. It seems both men may have been suffocated in some way.”

With that, Richard was on the phone in a flash. 

On further examination, bruising had been found in the inside of the lips of both men that which suggested it was caused by compression of tissue against the teeth and gums. So in other words, it was definitely murder in Richard’s mind. There was still no ID on the other victim but hopefully DNA tests and photos through the Caribbean, Interpol and FBI would bring up a result soon.

He was puzzled by one thing. Why theatrical makeup?

“Right, we need to find out where theatrical make up is used here.”

Richard’s comments caused three heads to snap up and stare at him. Camille was the first to speak.

“We need to find what Sir? Theatrical make up?”

“Yes, Camille. Theatrical make up!” Richard groused, “Where in Honoré would theatrical makeup be used?”

Camille looked at her colleagues then back at Richard.

“I guess some of the clubs. Three have opened in the past few years….”

“Yes, three. All near the hotels for the tourists. Caused quite a bit of a ruckus because a lot of people and the local bars objected, but the licences were granted anyway.”

Richard sat back.

“To ask a stupid question why? Honoré is loaded with clubs and bars.” Richard replied

“Because they’re table top and pole dancing clubs Chief. They renew their licences through us and the town authority. The licences were granted so there would be a greater attraction for tourists, but most objected not so much on business grounds but because no one wants Honoré to be involved with sex tourism. They’re scared this would be the start of it but all are strictly regulated and have regular inspections.” Dwayne said, pleased for once he was a bit of an expert, “The three are The Red Petal, Allegro and Boomer’s. Cost a pretty penny to go in as well. Most of the dancers come from the other islands, although some are local.”

Camille sat back in her chair, amused and impressed, Fidel ducked his head grinning because Richard’s reaction to Dwayne was priceless. Their Chief’s eyebrows were rising higher and higher. 

“I’ve been in this God forsaken place for nearly two years and I find out about this now?”

“Well, you’ve never had occasion to go there Chief.”

“And trust me, theatrical makeup is used a lot Richard and not just for the face either.” Camille added. Richard was about to ask her how she knew, but remembered information about her undercover work so kept quiet.

“Are we sure there’s no other entertainment on the island that would use this, any visiting tours, theatre companies, what have you? Right, we need to look at this more closely, Fidel, get back to the Medical Examiner’s office to see if there’s any chance the brand of the makeup can be identified at all with forensics. Camille and Dwayne, let’s check there if there are any other places which might use this type of makeup.”

With that, Richard looked briefly at his team getting to work before starting his own research, pleased there would be results, one way or the other.


End file.
